


daylight robbery

by endlessnighttimesky



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Anal Fingering, Anti-Depressants, Blowjobs, Comfort, Depression, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 12:58:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endlessnighttimesky/pseuds/endlessnighttimesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Therapy isn’t at all like in the movies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	daylight robbery

**Author's Note:**

> So, I thought it was about time I did something with my pent-up knowledge of mental health clinics and anti-depressants. Now, obviously this is only inspired by my own experiences, and I'm not saying this is what therapy or therapists looks like everywhere. This is just how it was for me (though without the cute boyfriend). Title may or may not be a thinly-veiled, envy-induced insult directed at private clinics. (I am forever jealous of people who can afford to pay for therapy.)

Therapy isn’t at all like in the movies. There are no tall bookcases or leather couches, no mahogany desks or Ph.D. diplomas in gold-plated frames.

Instead there are bookcases of medium height and stiff chairs made out of that pale kind of wood you can dent with a fingernail. All with the same, ugly fabric, similar to the kind bus seats are covered in. The walls are naked and beige and the floor is dirty and beige and the desk is messy and beige. Everything is fucking beige.

Gerard’s therapist has a Sigmund Freud action figure pinned to his bulletin board (it’s still in the box), and Gerard is torn about it, because while it’s cool and all, everyone knows that Freud was kind of a douche. And Gerard doesn’t want to have sex with his mom.

“Gerard?” Dr. Pine is talking to him. Probably has been for a while, judging by the look on his face. Gerard doesn’t know how to describe the look, just knows that Dr. Pine has it on his face every time Gerard zones out and forgets to answer his question.

“What?”

Dr. Pine tilts his head. “I was asking if you’re feeling better now that you’re on medication.”

Gerard shrugs. “I dunno,” he says. “I mean, I guess? But everything’s boring. I don’t feel like doing anything, like, ever. Everything’s just... gray.”

Dr. Pine nods encouragingly, like he wants Gerard to continue, so Gerard does just that.

“Like, I never feel like drawing anymore. Or writing, or reading. And it’s not like I mind doing those things, but I’m not especially motivated to do them, either. I don’t know, I just - don’t really care, I guess.”

Dr. Pine hums and writes something down in the notebook he’s got splayed in his lap. “What about your mood?” he asks when he looks up again. “Is it better or worse?”

Gerard tips his head to the side, thinking. “Better, I guess. I have less bad days, and even when I do, they’re not as bad as they were before. But I have less good days, too. Everyday is just... the same. Nothing is exciting anymore.”

Dr. Pine writes a little more before he does that thing where he clasps his hands over his lap and makes a thoughtful noise, like he has something important to say. Gerard usually takes that as a cue to start ignoring him again, so that’s exactly what he does.

He watches the birds on the telephone pole outside the window while Dr. Pine rattles on and on about mood stabilizers and how they’re meant to stabilize your mood, like that’s not fucking obvious. He babbles about how Gerard probably will benefit from this in the long run, and it makes Gerard want to scream and kick at things because he hasn’t drawn anything in over a month and his head feels like it’s going to collapse in on itself, it’s so fucking _empty_. He wouldn’t be surprised to find cobwebs up there.

Gerard tunes in just in time to hear Dr. Pine say that their time is up, sounding surprised, as if he doesn’t glance at the clock as often as Gerard would if he wasn’t facing away from it.

“I’ll see you next week,” Dr. Pine says as Gerard walks through the door and into the hallway, which is just as beige as Dr. Pine’s room and the rest of the clinic.

“Yeah,” Gerard says as he pulls on his jacket. “Bye.”

§ § §

Donna’s car isn’t in the driveway when Gerard comes home, but the door is unlocked and the lamps are all lit.

“Mikey?” Gerard calls out as he toes off his boots and shrugs out of his jacket.

“Nope,” comes a voice from the living room, and Gerard smiles for the first time that day.

“Hey,” Gerard says as he walks into the living room. “I didn’t know you were coming over tonight.”

“Wasn’t gonna,” Frank says around a mouthful of Pop-Tarts. He’s sprawled on the couch, arms up over his head, lean body stretched out on the brownish cushions. Gerard wants to devour him. “But then I remembered you had therapy today, so I thought I’d come and cheer you up.”

Gerard smiles tiredly as he fits himself beside Frank on the couch, head pillowed on his arm as he leans in to kiss his cheek. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” Frank says, sounding all kinds of smug. “So, how was it?”

“Therapy?”

Frank rolls his eyes. “No, the bus ride. Yes, therapy.”

“I don’t know. Boring. Beige.”

“Beige?”

“Everything at the clinic is beige. Walls, floors, chairs, desks. Everything’s beige, or shades of it.”

“Sounds lame,” Frank says.

Gerard yawns and stretches a little, getting comfortable. “Yeah.”

Frank shifts beside him until he’s on his side, facing Gerard. “Tired?” he asks as he wraps an arm around Gerard’s waist, pulling him closer to his chest.

Gerard hums, and when he speaks, it’s quiet and a little slurred, like he’s too tired to fully pronounce the words. “It’s weird, how exhausting it is. Especially since I just sit there and stare at the birds.”

“The birds?”

“Telephone pole,” Gerard mumbles. “Outside the window.”

“Oh. Okay. The birds.” Frank nudges Gerard’s forehead with his nose. “Are you falling asleep? Because we should probably get in your bed before you do, unless you want to wake up from me accidentally pushing you off the couch.”

Gerard makes a sleepy noise. “Don’t wanna get up.”

Frank starts pushing at him anyway. “C’mon, a bed is so much better than this couch. And you can get out of your clothes.”

“You’re only tryin’ to get me naked, aren’t you, Frankie?” Gerard slurs as he lets Frank tug him up and off the couch, over to the bottom of the stairs.

“Totally,” Frank says and starts pushing Gerard up the stairs. Gerard goes willingly but slowly, but it’s not like they’re in a hurry. They don’t have anywhere to be but here.

“Knew it,” Gerard says as Frank leads him into his bedroom. “You only want me for my body.”

“Yes,” Frank says, “because that’s totally why I’m putting your tired ass to bed.”

Gerard makes a pleased noise as Frank shoves him under the covers, wearing only his boxer-briefs after Frank removed the rest of his clothing. His hair is a mess from where the collar of his t-shirt got caught around his head and he’s looking the happiest Frank has seen him in a while, smiling in a way that tells Frank he’s barely even aware of doing it.

“C’mere,” he mumbles, hand moving weakly over the empty space on the matters, gesturing for Frank to get in.

Frank grins a little and pulls his t-shirt over his head, dropping it on the floor beside Gerard’s discarded clothes before shimmying out of his jeans.

The bed is already a little warm when he gets in - Gerard is like a furnace, while Frank is always cold. It’s one of the many things that make them fit so well together, Frank thinks.

Gerard is asleep within a few minutes after putting his head on Frank’s chest, lying all curled up beside him, breathing softly. It’s rare for him to fall asleep so fast, and this early, but Frank isn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially not while it’s asleep. That’ll have to wait for tomorrow.

§ § §

Frank wakes up to the sound of a car door clicking open, only to slam shut a few seconds later. Heels click across asphalt and up the front steps.

Beside him, Gerard stirs, making a small noise in the back of his throat as he twists under the cover, facing away from Frank but tugging him along, pulling his arm back around his waist until they’re spooning.

Frank presses a dry kiss to the back of Gerard’s neck. “Your mom’s home,” he mumbles. “Maybe we should put on pants.”

Gerard makes a noncommittal noise. When he speaks, it’s slurred and quiet. “Just don’t fuck me in front of her an’ we’ll prob’ly be fine.”

Frank snorts out a laugh against the little bump at the bottom of Gerard’s neck. “I’ll try to stay away.”

“Not away,” Gerard mumbles, pulling Frank’s arm tighter around him. “Stay here.”

“Not going anywhere,” Frank says.

“Promise?”

Frank rubs his nose over the soft hairs at Gerard’s nape. “Promise.”

§ § §

“Is this gonna be a thing?” Gerard asks when he comes home from therapy the following week. Frank is sitting on the counter in the kitchen with a bowl of Frankenberry cradled to his chest, pink milk running down his chin.

“Is what gonna be a thing?” Frank asks, mouth still full of cereal.

“You breaking into my house while I’m at therapy,” Gerard says as he grabs a can of Diet Coke from the fridge. “Because if it’s a thing, I might go there more often.”

Frank sets the bowl down on the counter and makes grabby hands at Gerard, hooking an ankle around the back of his thigh and reeling him in.

“Hi,” Gerard says, smiling as he sets the can down beside Frank’s bowl.

“Hey,” Frank says, voice warm, and when his hand comes up to cup Gerard’s jaw, Gerard is already leaning in, making space for himself between Frank’s dangling legs as he moves close enough for a kiss, slow and lazy and wet and sloppy and perfect.

Gerard’s hands come to rest on Frank’s hips, fingers stroking over the warm skin underneath his t-shirt, while Frank wraps his arms around Gerard’s neck, keeping him as close as possible.

“Also, I didn’t break in,” Frank says once they pull apart. “I used the key under the doormat.”

“Except you’re not supposed to know that key is there,” Gerard says, rubbing his nose over the soft skin at the hollow of Frank’s throat.

“I could jimmy the lock if you want me to,” Frank says, pressing close-mouthed kisses to the top of Gerard’s head. “It’s more romantic than using the spare key, anyway.”

Gerard snorts. “Because you’ve always been so romantic.”

“Fuck you,” Frank says, pushing at Gerard’s shoulder. “I’m totally romantic. Actually, I’m gonna show you exactly how romantic I can be. C’mon.” Jumping off the counter, Frank grabs the sleeve of Gerard’s hoodie and starts pulling him towards the living room.

“Where are we going?” Gerard asks as Frank pushes him up the stairs.

“Take a guess,” Frank says, and proceeds to pull Gerard into his bedroom and down onto the bed.

“Frank,” Gerard pants, chest heaving, “what about - “

“Your mom’s gonna be at the salon ‘til five and Mikey’s with Pete. Now shut up and let me blow you.”

A distant part of Gerard’s brain goes _ewww_ when Frank mentions Mikey and Pete, but it’s all very far away, because he’s having a pretty hard time concentrating on anything but Frank’s hands, unzipping his jeans and tugging them over his hips, down his legs and off his feet until he can throw them to the floor.

“Frankie,” Gerard breathes, hands clenching in the sheets as Frank licks at his dick through his underwear, soaking the thin fabric. “God, please - “

Frank grins and presses a sloppy kiss to Gerard’s exposed hipbone. “So pretty when you beg, Gee.” Curling his fingers into the waistband of Gerard’s boxer-briefs, Frank pulls them down and off - he doesn’t know when, but at some point Gerard got his t-shirt and hoodie off, and now Frank’s got him completely naked in front of him, pale and soft against the navy sheets.

Frank hums happily and starts licking at the base of Gerard’s cock, the crease of his thigh, the soft flesh below his belly button. Above him, Gerard keens, a high noise at the back of his throat that gets even louder when Frank finally swallows him down, first taking just the head in his mouth before sinking lower and lower until he’s got a nose full of coarse hair.

“Frankie,” Gerard says again - he’s never the most eloquent when he’s being blown. “Fucking - God, so good, Frankie, so good - “

Pulling back, Frank tongues at the underside of Gerard’s cock, hands pushing at the backs of Gerard’s thighs, up and apart until his legs are over Frank’s shoulders and Frank can dip even lower, mouthing at Gerard’s balls.

It takes a while for Gerard to realize where this is going, and once he does, Frank is already licking over his hole, making everything slick and wet before he pushes in.

“Oh, God,” Gerard moans. “Fuck, Frankie, you - “ _Can’t do that_ , he wants to says, except he thinks that if Frank stopped now, he’d probably die.

“Gonna fuck you with my fingers,” Frank says, voice muffled as he mouths at Gerard’s inner thigh, nipping at the skin there. “That okay?”

Gerard can’t even believe that Frank has to ask. “Yes,” he says anyway. “ _Please_.”

“Mm, ‘kay,” Frank mumbles, sounding smug as fuck as shuffling up on the bed so he can reach into Gerard’s nightstand and grab the lube.

Gerard doesn’t say anything when Frank finally slides his fingers in - he starts with two, because he knows Gerard can take it and will only whine if he tried to go any slower. Instead he moans, loud enough that Frank thinks the neighbors might’ve heard. He couldn’t care less if they did, though.

“Jesus Christ,” Gerard grits out, hips bucking to take Frank’s fingers even deeper.

“It’s Frank, actually,” Frank says, like the little shit he is. “But you can call me whatever.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Gerard groans, and then he moans again when Frank finds his prostrate and rubs the pads of his fingers over it. “There - God, right there, Frankie, please...”

Except then Frank pulls out and Gerard whines, sounding like he’s gonna cry, but the noise tips over into another moan when Frank pushes in with another finger and curls them all inside him, pressing up with his fingertips until Gerard arches off the bed, hips lifting from the mattress.

“Think you can come from only my fingers?” Frank asks, all casual and shit as if Gerard’s not practically doing it already. There’s a blinding heat in his stomach and he can feel everything tighten up as Frank continues to rub at his prostate with long, hard strokes of his fingers.

“Gonna - gonna come, Frankie, I can’t...”

“Yeah, baby, c’mon,” Frank encourages, thrusting his fingers in and out, pressing them up. “Wanna see you.”

That’s all it takes - Frank’s voice paired with his fingers pulling out and pushing in, stretching him, and then Gerard is coming, spilling all over his stomach and chest as his eyebrows draw together and his mouth drops open.

“Fuck,” he breathes, opening his eyes to look down at Frank. “C’mere.” He pats his chest.

Even though he’s not the one who just came his brains out, by the looks of it, Frank is still a little confused.

“Wanna suck you,” Gerard clarifies, reaching down to fist a hand in Frank’s t-shirt. That gets Frank going again, and he’s chucked all of his clothes onto the floor within a minute.

Gerard smiles any him, slow and lazy. He wraps a hand around Frank’s wrist and helps him get settled on Gerard’s chest, legs spread just a few inches from his face. Gerard licks his lips at the sight.

“Want you to fuck my mouth, ‘kay?” he tells Frank. “Don’t be careful.” And then he proceeds to take Frank’s cock all the way down his throat.

Frank moans, and the neighbors are going to hate him so much but he couldn’t give less of a shit, not with the way Gerard’s throat is constricting around the head of his cock while he just lies there, looking like he couldn’t possibly be happier about having a dick shoved down his throat.

Hands gripping and pushing at Frank’s hips, Gerard urges him to move, and eventually Frank gets with the program and pulls back before pushing in slowly, rolling his hips in smooth, controlled moves.

Gerard glares at him, but with the way his mouth looks, stretched and red around Frank’s cock, the look kind of loses its potency. Frank knows what it means, though - _stop being so fucking careful_. So he stops, and starts fucking Gerard’s mouth in earnest, which leaves a looking the most blissful Frank’s seen him in - well, he doesn’t know how long, the concept of time is kind of hard to wrap his mind around when he’s got Gerard’s mouth on his dick, but it’s been a while, and Frank fucking loves him, loves how all Gerard wants is to lie in bed while Frank fucks his mouth.

“God, Gee,” Frank groans, head falling back as he thrusts into Gerard’s mouth. “Feel so fucking good. I’m gonna - “

Gerard’s hands tighten on his hips - _yes, Frank, c’mon_. He doesn’t let up, either, which Frank takes to mean that he wants Frank to come in his mouth, so that’s exactly what he does, spilling down Gerard’s throat and pulling down just in time for the last spurts to land over Gerard’s lips.

Gerard looks almost like he just came a second time - his eyes are closed and his mouth is quirked into a tiny smile, like he’s not really aware of it.

Frank groans and lies down beside him. “Fucking hell, Gerard.”

Grinning, Gerard licks his lips, which just serves to make Frank groan again. “Good?”

“Like you even have to ask,” Frank says, because it’s not like he’s totally melting into the fucking mattress here, or anything like that.

“I take back what I said, though,” Gerard says. “You’re totally romantic.”

“Fucking right I am,” Frank says. “I’m fucking Romeo with this shit. _How fares my Juliet? That I ask again; for nothing can be ill, if she be well.”_

Gerard stares at him. “You did not just quote Shakespeare at me.”

Frank grins. “I totally did,” he says, and in a dramatic voice that Gerard assumes is supposed to represent Romeo, he continues, “ _But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.”_

“Okay, okay,” Gerard laughs. “Quit it with the Shakespeare before I actually kill myself.”

“But then I’d have to kill myself too,” Frank says, stroking over Gerard’s ribs with his fingertips. “And I don’t know where to get poison, but I know how to get a gun, but that’d be really messy and gross, and I don’t like things that are messy and gross, except you. So, really, it’s better if you just stay alive.”

“I’m not messy and gross,” Gerard says.

Frank raises an eyebrow. “When did you last shower?”

Gerard glares at him.

“Exactly,” Frank says.

“You’re an asshole,” Gerard says.

“A romantic asshole who just made you come your brains out,” Frank says, and then rolls over on the bed to search Gerard’s nightstand for cigarettes. “A romantic asshole who really needs a smoke and holy fuck, Gee, where the fuck are you cigarettes?”

“Right back pocket,” Gerard mumbles against the back of Frank’s neck. “My jeans.”

Frank reaches down to pull out a battered pack of Marlboro’s and a purple lighter.

“Want one?” he asks around the unlit cigarette in his mouth when he settles on the bed again, leaning back against the headboard.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Gerard says, rolling his eyes, before he grabs the pack out of Frank’s hand. “Fuck you, of course I do.”

“You never know,” Frank says, even though with Gerard, you kind of do. At least when it’s got to do with cigarettes.

He lights Gerard’s cigarette, and then his own, when he manages to drag his eyes away from the way Gerard’s cheeks hollow as he breathes in the smoke.

They smoke their cigarettes in relative silence - Gerard makes a soft, pleased noise when Frank starts scratching over his scalp, but that’s about it. They don’t need to talk.

When he’s down to the filter, Gerard reaches across Frank’s lap to stub his cigarette out in the ashtray on his nightstand, and Frank does the same a minute or so later, before he slides down under the covers with Gerard.

“Sleepy?” he asks as he pushes a few stray strands of hair behind Gerard’s ear.

“Mm,” Gerard mumbles, eyes falling shut. “Stay for a while?”

“Yeah,” Frank says, rolling closer to wrap an arm around Gerard and pull him to his chest. “Don’t wanna be anywhere but here, anyway.”

Gerard smiles. “Love you, Frankie.”

Frank grins into Gerard’s messy hair. He’s told Frank before, a few times, but usually they just settle for showing each other how they feel. It’s still nice to hear, though.

“I love you too, Gee.”

 


End file.
